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No second Helen
I loved a woman
who was beautiful
just like Helen of Troy
and with pills and depression,
she was plagued under my own eyes.
Our love nest became a dark cave
and at times it tore through me
when the sun
was blocked out from the windows
and I saw her suffer there.
With time she hanged her cloak
somewhere else
and I wonder if at times
she catches a ray of the sun?
poem
by
Gert Strydom
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